


Stay, I Pray You

by ThatBritishBoy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Human, Historical, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Anastasia (1997), M/M, Romanovs - Freeform, Russian Revolution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-07 00:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18227468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatBritishBoy/pseuds/ThatBritishBoy
Summary: Ivan Braginski, a nobleman from Russia meets the young American raised son of a French nobleman. Together they explore castles, charm strangers, and perhaps fall in love. That is until one fateful night during a celebration at the palace there's an attack. The royals have fled, people are dead, and worst of all Ivan can't remember who that man was. All he knows is his sisters and him have to flee to Paris, but why and who is waiting there for him?In reference to the Anastasia musical, try and find all the musical quotes along the way.





	Stay, I Pray You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My Supportive Fiancee](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+Supportive+Fiancee).



From the centre of the ballroom everything was spinning. Dancers spinning around, bustles on gowns moving swiftly, excited speaking in French and whispered muttering in Russian. The room sparkled of diamonds as did the women. Everything glittered, everything sparkled.

A bow, a dance, warm hands on shoulders. A brunette smiling, chatting softly as the two spun. A glimpse of the Empress, another of a princess. All of Europe’s finest dignitaries in one room, drunk and dancing like improper fools. Not a care to the world around them. 

Only one standing still, off to the side. Powerful and tall, yet not like the others among the room. He was dressed in black, yet sparkled on his own, or maybe it was those alarming violet eyes. He watched intently, not missing a thing around him. Even as everyone spun about, toasting, kissing, and dancing. This was where he belonged or so he was told. He refused to dance. Even as the women eyed him.

The young man in the centre of it all had caught the gentleman’s attention unlike any of the women. Had anyone truly seen the sun so close? He couldn’t be much older than 18 and he spoke with an accent. Much different from the Russians around him. Dressed in deep blues and warm cream, unlike the gentlemen all dressed in blacks and golds. What was this ray of sunshine doing among the Romanov court? How had someone so foreign ended up in a mix of people who only knew one another?

Ivan straightened his black tailcoat. It was a gift from his grandmother who he was representing this very evening. A distant countess, who had sent him to study in Saint Petersburg. Of course he still had to save face and speak with the others around him, even if their parties strained his course work. She was elderly after all, and unable to attend the festivities herself, and he was the only unmarried grandson. It was a ploy of course to find him a wealthy wife.

He made a move to brush back his silvery hair with a white gloved hand, not remembering he had slicked his bangs back from his face. Instinct, one could assume. Or nerves? He found his mouth to be almost completely dry despite the champagne he had been sipping all evening.

Ivan Braginski stepped forward to approach the ray of light, only to realise, he was gone. He blinked slowly, unbelieving that someone could simply disappear. How had someone who shined brighter than the Romanovs themselves, simply disappear? Reluctant and disappointed in himself and his antisocial behaviour, he made his way to the great halls to calm himself. This was where he could find peace, and maybe someone to fetch him vodka.

In the hall, Ivan leaned himself against a marble pillar, looking out at the city. Saint Petersburg was alight. The city sparkled. Truly unlike anywhere else he had been. Ivan found himself wondering if this was what Paris felt like. They called it the city of lights, but how could a city be brighter than his Petersburg?

He sipped his champagne in silence as he stared out at the lights. His breathing slow as he stood, barely making a noise. The cold stone against his back soothed him as did the distant echo of the party only a room away. 

Just as soon as it had quieted down, there was a laugh that echoed across marble and pierced straight through Ivan’s very core. It filled the whole room as the doors to the ballroom opened. “I will return in just a moment Madame!” A voice promised in accented French, truly disrupting Ivan’s peace. He heard the soft shut of heavy doors drowned out by the party. His breathing slowed as he knew someone had entered the halls with him. Time to save face. 

He stood straight clearing his own voice as he revealed himself. The gentleman that had entered jumped and Ivan’s eyes widened as he realised who had disturbed him. He suddenly didn’t mind the interruption. “You are quite loud my friend.” He chuckled softly, French coming out in a lower tone than he’d intended. “Not quite used to the court?” He questioned carefully, curiously. He wanted to know anything about the boy before him. Dressed in deep blues, and goodness, was that a gold vest? It was as if he was the evening sky. 

The boy faltered his smile wavering. Ivan understood that expression. He was not used to speaking in French. “Do you prefer Russian?” He asked lowering his volume so that the royals did not hear. The upper class never spoke Russian. Especially within the halls of the royal palace. A rule Ivan had never truly understood.

Having been raised royal but far from the city, he had still been taught Russian along with French. Why the other families refused to acknowledge the people’s language, Ivan still failed to understand?

The young man’s face faltered more and Ivan was afraid he had found one of the royals who refused to speak ‘the common man’s language’. “Please no Russian.” He laughed nervously. Ivan’s nose wrinkled in distaste. Did this boy not like Russian? Why was he in Russia than?! “My French is bad… my Russian is worse.” He laughed and Ivan relaxed quickly. He didn’t speak Russian! 

“I suppose French is not your first language?” He spoke softly smiling down at the patch of sun. The boy chuckled and Ivan’s heart pounded into his ribcage. “Is it that obvious? My father said I picked it up quickly.” He smiled head tilting slightly. Ivan wanted to touch those golden locks, but his hand froze on his jacket. While their conversation was in French, both of their accents were unmistakably not French. 

“My name is Ivan Braginski.” He spoke first, reaching out his hand to the gentleman before him. “I am from Nizhny-Novgorod, I represent my family at these gatherings.” He introduced himself calmly, hand barely shaking, as the other grasped it and steadied him. 

He shook his hand firmly. “I’m Alfred, my father brought me here. He’s from Paris.” He smiled warmly, something Ivan found odd for a Parisian. “You say he is from Paris, obviously you are not?” He asked curiously wanting to learn more about this man, for instance his last name. Alfred smiled nervously up at Ivan. “I was raised in America, I’m studying in Paris before taking over my father’s company.” Ivan’s eyebrow raised in curiosity. How had an American found his way into the Russian royal court? “He’s also used to be related to the royal families in France.” Ivan smiled in understanding, it was beginning to make sense now. France was no longer a monarchy. Something that led to many whispers in the streets of Russia. It made the royals nervous, though they pretend nothing did.

“And you still attend these events?” Ivan asked curious as to why the American would ever put himself in a situation as such. “My father has many friends among the royal families.” He smiled softly and at that moment Ivan understood,, “And hopes to find me a wife who is still a part of a royal family.” Ivan rose a brow. “I understand, my grandmother has me here for the same reasons instead of back at my home studying. You seem to catch the ladies fancy.” His warm chuckle filling the halls and echoing across marble. Alfred visibly relaxed before shrugging in Ivan’s direction.

“Studying?” He asked curiously and Ivan noticed the quick topic change. Perhaps when they were closer he would bring it up once more. “Yes, I wanted to study science, but alas, more politics for me.” He shook his head in disbelief. It was only expected of him to take over his family name. He was raised by his grandmother, orphaned by his parents, and the only son of three siblings. 

“I like you.” The American blurted in the most informal of ways. Yes Alfred was definitely not used to being around royalty. Ivan liked that, it made him feel normal. Even in his academic classes, surrounded by other upper class students, he was treated differently. “I like you as well.” Ivan replied leaning towards the other, motioning to the hall behind them. “If I’m not interrupting your dancing, would you care to walk with me?” He asked softly and the blond smiled brightly. This was their chance to get away from all the excitement. It was a stroll between two men who could become political and financial allies, what could their families complain of? “Only if we can talk in English.” 

Ivan stumbled as Alfred made his bargain and chuckled nervously. “English?” He asked voice cracking with nerves. His English wasn’t great and by far was not proper. “Well you know English do you not?” Alfred rose a brow and Ivan decided while he liked that smirk, he didn’t like it directed at him. “Of course.” He snapped in English and then laughed. Ivan hadn’t meant to snap, but he took great pride in his education. “I just do not like my own voice in English.”

Alfred looked him over carefully. The Russian man suddenly felt very open. He could feel the warmth of his blush spreading across his cheeks, and he suddenly felt the need to clutch to the scarf he normally wore. A gift from his dead mother, and a sort of security for the grown man. “I like your voice.” Alfred responded sending chills through Ivan. How could he say something like that? In the open, and in English for that matter. Did Americans truly have no tact? Or was Alfred simply not afraid of the consequences at hand? “Come on Ivan, since you are royal, show me around?” Ivan chuckled lowly before pushing him by his shoulder down the hall. “You know I am only viscount?” He corrected Alfred, that wasn’t truly royalty. It didn’t seem like that mattered to the American boy at all. “Yeah I’ve never meet a viscount before so you’re already more important than anyone I know.” 

Heart don’t fail me now… Ivan found himself breathing deeply and trying to frantically gather his thoughts. This wasn’t at all what grandmother had intended. What would his sisters say? Why was he so worried? It was only a casual stroll. “So this is your first time in Russia?” He smiled down at Alfred as he led him through the halls, ignoring all the warnings in his head. 

“I came once long ago.” He spoke sweetly as their voice faded down the open halls. “Really?” “Oh yes, but I got in quite a lot of trouble.” “Oh do explain?” “Well it all started with a tiara…”

\-----

“And yeah that’s how I ended up with a thousand dollar taira dangling from one finger tip and a very angry queen of England nearby.” Alfred finished his story and Ivan looked on in mock surprise. “You know you are quite… interesting person.” Ivan laughed softly. 

No one had warned Ivan that one small step could change his life forever. He found himself wandering the palace in Saint Petersburg for hours. The party was sure to be still going on, the Romanovs never ceased. Ivan never imagined being lost among crown jewels with a stranger during such an event. The doors creaked as they wandered the secret parts of the castles. They definitely weren’t supposed to be here. 

Footsteps.

“You have to be quite Alfred.” He warned the younger. “Why?” 

“Hey! You can’t be in here!” The doors opened as a guard shouted in French. Ivan slapped a hand over Alfred’s mouth quickly. He stood tall smiling to the guard. “My apologies sir. We had just wandered off to find somewhere private!” He replied in French. The guard’s face turned red as Alfred squirmed and he saw shuffling in the unidentifiable shadows. “Very sorry, we will be leaving!” Yet the doors had already shutting as the guard had hurried off.

“What was that?!” Alfred laughed as he pushed Ivan’s hand away from his mouth. “The guards here, they walk in on counts and countesses in the midst of… provocative activities, most of which aren’t married to one another. They have learned it is best not to question.” He chuckled softly as Alfred’s face turned red. 

“Your royal families are quite odd, you know?” He laughed nervously, Ivan found it endearing. “So I have been told. We Russians enjoy finer things.” Ivan murmured realising they were close together at that moment, still crouched to hide from the guards. 

\------


End file.
